


Fortune Cookies

by IMAgentMI



Category: Red vs. Blue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:22:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8011714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IMAgentMI/pseuds/IMAgentMI
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blue Team orders in.  Who doesn't love fortune cookies?</p>
<p>For Elizabeth, for being so sweet.  (First time I've ever written Tex - just for you.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fortune Cookies

“What are you guys doing?”

The table in the center of the room was covered in take-out boxes, and plates still half full of egg rolls and rice and meat in various shades of brown. Tucker and Church looked up from the table as Tex walked in.  She leaned against the wall, waiting for a smartass remark to what was admittedly a stupid question.  But Tucker just gave a muffled “oh it’s you” before continuing to struggle with a mouthful of noodles that trailed down his chin like tentacles.

“We’re field stripping our pistols - what the fuck does it look like?”  Naturally Church wasn’t about to let it slide, but his words didn’t carry as much venom as usual.  His chopsticks froze in midair as his eyes flicked up and down her armour as though searching for blood, then narrowed as though he thought she’d tricked him into showing any sign that he cared.  While he was distracted, the piece of barbecued pork he’d been holding slipped out of the utensils’ grasp and landed softly in a bed of rice.  

Tex took in Tucker’s scrunched up face as he tried unsuccessfully to suck in the last strands of noodles, the bright red spot on Caboose’s chest where a dropped chicken ball had left a glob of sweet and sour sauce, and the way Church snarled as he stabbed at the pork ineffectively with a single chopstick.  “Some sort of freaky performance art?  How did you get Chinese food delivered out here anyway?”

Church started to answer, but was interrupted as Tucker slurped the last remaining noodles too far in and started to choke.  Caboose’s slap on his back knocked him forward onto the table, ejecting the entire mouthful of noodles back onto his plate.  There was a clatter as three sets of chopsticks hit the table at once, signaling an abrupt end to everyone’s appetite and the meal.  Tex smirked behind her helmet, but then recoiled in surprise as something rebounded softly off of it.  She caught the object in one hand - a fortune cookie.  “There were extra.”  Church glared at her as he picked up his own, and there was a rustle of cellophane as the other soldiers ripped open theirs.  

Tex tore open the package and pulled out the little slip of paper from where it was sticking out through a crack, then threw the unbroken cookie onto the table.  She turned it right-side up and read hers out loud.  “‘Don’t worry about money.  The best things in life are free.’  Ha.”  She looked over at Church.  “Did you set that up?”

“It was sealed, wasn’t it?  So no.”  Church cracked his cookie in half, accidentally tearing his fortune in two at the same time.  “Goddammit.”  He held the pieces together and squinted his eyes to read them.  “‘Being kind to others will bring rewards.’  FUCK THAT.”  He went to fling the pieces on the table, but they just fluttered down onto his lap.  

“‘It is impossible to please everybody.  Please yourself first.’  I do that every night!”  Tucker started to put the fortune into his pocket but stopped when Tex burst out laughing.  

“I think your fortune just said you suck in bed, Tucker.”  She laughed again as he pulled it back out and frantically re-read it.

“My turn!”  Caboose stuck the entire cookie in his mouth, chewed twice, then extracted the damp piece of paper.  “‘Tomorrow will be too late to enjoy what you can today.’  I can enjoy my best friend every day!”  He leaned toward Church, who leveled a chopstick at his chest.  

“Touch me and you won’t have a tomorrow.”  Church dumped his leftover food onto Tucker’s plate, and set the empty plate back down as he reached to clean off Caboose’s.  Tex picked it up and he swung back around suspiciously.  “What are you doing?”  

“Helping.” Her answer surprised even her.  Church looked wary, as though he was wondering if he’d need his plate for a shield.  

“And what is going to cost us?”

Tex smiled.  “You can have this one for free.”  

Church’s eyebrows rose, but then -- “Thanks.”  He cleared his throat and turned when Tucker’s chair squealed as he stood.  “You going to help too?”

Tucker stretched his arms lazily over his head and grinned.  “Sorry, but I gotta go please myself first.”  Tex groaned and Church threw a wadded up napkin at him as Tucker laughed and walked out of the room.  

“I’ll help, Church!”  Caboose leaned in to take the plates Church was holding.

“No, no, no, no, no!  We barely have enough dishes left - we can’t afford for you to go breaking more or we’ll be eating our meals off the fucking table.  Just… I dunno… go outside and play or something.  Go have fun.”

“Like my cookie!” 

As Caboose bounded out the door, Tex gathered the empty cups and balanced them on the plate she was holding. “Was that supposed to be you being nice?” 

“No, that was me getting rid of Caboose.”

“In a nice way.” 

“Don’t. Just don’t.”

Tex took the dishes into the kitchen, and rinsed them in the sink.  She walked out to collect the rest from Church and found him still standing at the table, looking down at something in his hand.  “What’s wrong?”  Church didn’t look up.

“There’s one last cookie.” 

“Well either eat it or toss it.  If you take too long I might charge you for this after all.”

Tex grabbed the last dishes from the table in front of him and walked back into the kitchen.  Church stood staring down at the cookie a little longer, then ripped off the wrapper and broke it open, careful to keep the paper intact this time.  

“‘Take advantage of the moment. Soon it will just be a memory.’”  

Epsilon stared down at the tiny strip of paper.  

“Church?”

He picked up the plate with the last scraps of food, walked to the garbage and scraped them in.  He looked at the fortune one last time, crumpled it in his fist and tossed it on top, then dropped the lid back on the trash can.  “Coming.”  

 


End file.
